


untitled

by ursamedium



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28343586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursamedium/pseuds/ursamedium
Summary: just some Ambien-fueled original content from 2013, originally posted to tumblr.





	untitled

within his first week working the lab he had made absolutely no notable impression on anyone, he thought. he was not a star student he was not a social butterfly he was not a disruption he was just a worker bee, here. his hair is dark brown and his eyes are yellow and his skin is as pale as one would expect from a man who spends his hours inside pouring over papers and huddled in front of computer screens and nobody bothers to learn his face as he blends in among the majority of the others flawlessly. he qualifies as a genius anywhere else but here that is standard. the only thing aside is his age. twenty-six is just a child to most of the others and another way for him to earn no respect

he has no confidence in himself he thinks he is worthless and unimportant and should not exist and is not sure how he got into this program, a privilege reserved for the most promising and intellectual individuals in the city. he still believes it is a mistake even though there is his name written on the badge on the lab coat he wears every day he comes in to work and the coat is emblazoned with the emblem of the government. it is real and he does not understand it he does not want it to be real but he wants it to be real

more than anything though he wants to step out of the drab days he has to drag himself through it feels like he wades through toxic sludge to work every day even though he knows this should be an opportunity that is a dream and a position of power and he is required to be happy with this. he is not and it burdens him with more guilt

the reassignment was another accepted curse at first he signed the nda without reading it and assists the maintenance boys in packing up his desk to move, as mechanical and cold about it as they are. there is not much. he has nothing personal at his desk. it is a quick task to move him to his new position.

there it is different something has changed. he has made an impression on someone, though he does not want to believe it. a bigger office. the supplies are better. there are no windows though and he thinks they are underground but he wasn’t paying attention. he was trying to listen to the maintenance worker attempt conversation, speaking about his wife and her health and if he had a girl for himself and he was so caught off guard that he didn’t know how to answer, and the man finished his work and left without a word from him

he is left in his office alone awaiting the debriefing and left with time to think and he does think. he has little he needs little. familial involvement is minimal. romantic and platonic relationships do not come naturally to him and he does not seek them. maybe there is something wrong with him this is a thing that he has thought of many times. he feels as though he is not on the same wavelength as the people around him sometimes slightly slower sometimes slightly quicker but always out of sync sometimes he might even describe it like he is watching his life from the outside

only one woman comes for the debriefing and she is someone important but he does not remember the name she has gray-blue eyes and black hair and he does not like her and he does not have a reason. she speaks politely and addresses him with respect and he can tell she may have some sort of respect for him because she asks to be reminded of his name and most people don’t and she smiles but he treats her as he does everyone else

his new job is not to research the data for treating the common allergic reaction from the military-grade protective suits used to venture beyond the perimeter as he has been for the last year but he is to monitor a subject now and research. he is part of a five-man team. team leader. he does not believe he qualifies for that but she says he does and he is the subordinate. she leaves and he thinks he was respectful enough but he is not really sure he never is.

exploration of his new work area was the clear next step. more materials. hands-on sort of things. surgical tools? he is confused he feels that he may have missed an important debriefing or paper or something none of this is what he is used to. the area is secure he needs to push his hand to a pad next to each door to open it and he has never seen that used in the facilities he has been in before but somehow they are in the same building.

it is fear that follows the confusion when he finds the room with the sphere. two stories high. it has a balcony around the second level, leaving it untouched except for the stand at the top that holds it. the bottom is raised four and a half feet off the floor.

the sphere is hollow. nearly completely full of light blue liquid that seems to be a little more gelatinous than water. that is not what scares him. what scares him is what is in the liquid. it is unquestionably alive.

humanoid, but taller? longer? he is not sure which word counts here. scales like a fish or a reptile, in dusty red, dull green eyes. hands and feet are different, webbed. spikes of webbing strategically placed over its body optimal for an aquatic creature. it is naked and he can tell that it is clearly male.

there is a coworker who approaches him and interrupts his fear. introductions are made. he does not remember the coworker's name, but he gives his own. the coworker says the subject’s label is a-030 for aquatic, category zero, subject thirty, and that it does not move ever and the staff has changed to mostly new for training since there is little more that can be done with a-030 since a-030 is dying and they do not have a backup healthy subject

he talks with the coworker about something he doesn’t remember, and then he is left alone. he stays and looks on at the sphere in clear fear. a-030 moves even though a coworker said that a-030 does not. he watches as a-030 comes to meet him, face to face at the base of the sphere moving through the liquid as if it were truly water. their eyes meet. he does not understand

he leaves to return home only because the clock says he should and schedules are important, he’s been told. the next days of work are uneventful. the work is similar to what he did before. it is monotonous and he finds it fulfilling enough though he feels. it’s just a little irritation, at first. then the anger very slowly builds. it devours him. it terrifies him. he ignores it.

every day with a-030 is the same. the creature is motionless in its prison, though its eyes follow him. when he is the last to leave, a-030 descends to stare at him as he exits. this is the only that he has ever seen the creature move. he has not found a need to report on this, assuming it is a ritual experienced by all of his coworkers.

it is a week before his job is changed again. he is shifted to a more tactile role in the research. coworker proudly presents him with two jars, each containing a matching finger. they are a-030’s fingers. a coworker tells him, jar one was removed six months ago. it was not preserved, left to see decomposition. jar two was removed an hour ago. they are the same.

he works as told for a while. then he has to stop. he can't ignore it more. he leaves for his office. he waits long past working hours. he leaves his office and arms himself with all he can think of, a heavy crowbar from one of the maintenance rooms. 

a-030 goes to greet him, as usual. he waves him away, and the creature backs up, confusion written on its face and he never noticed how human that face really looks. he holds the crowbar how he’s seen baseball players do on the television, and takes a swing at the sphere. and another. and another. the tiniest crack appears.

pauses to catch his breath, and a-030 is staring at him with a look he’s never seen anyone give him. the crowbar is not an adequate tool. he is not an adequate human being. he is scrawny and weak. but he keeps at it, losing track of how long he strikes the sphere. tears stream from his eyes, his hands bleed, and he does not give up. 

he does not know how long it has been but he has made progress there is a sizable crack in the sphere prison. a-030 moves, and he stops to look up at it. the creature backs up to the far side of the sphere, looks at him, and dives down full speed, protecting its head with its arms. even in such a weak state, it is heavy and strong enough to do the job. the sphere cracks like an egg, fluid, and a-030 spilling out onto the floor.

he is covered in the liquid, too, when it spills. he sways and falls. now he knows why a-030 does not move. there is an anesthetic or something similar and it is dosed for a creature much larger and different than he is. he feels as though he is fading quickly.

there is a-030’s face. the creature is lifting him up in his arms and he can feel how weak he is but he still manages. blackness swallows his vision and he is not sure what happens after that

but he wakes on a rough blanket, on dirt in shade. he is in his clothes and wet. someone washed the liquid off him at least. when he opens his eyes he sees that they are hiding under a small bridge over a creek. a-030 is nearby.

The creature is sitting in the creek and has a far too small coat wrapped around his shoulders. The dull red markings he had before are brighter, showing splotchy patterns ranging from pale pinks on his front to dark reds on his back. A-030 opens his eyes, and the green is vibrant, now, with a subtle glow.

He sits up, and he thinks maybe everything feels a little more vibrant. He wants to thank the creature, but what comes out of his mouth is an automatic thought, not the deeper ones rolling in his mind.

“I think I lost my job.” He flushes, angry with himself for thinking of that first.

A-030 smiles, sort of. The edges of his mouth raise and his eyes shut slightly. “But you have found a friend. Tell me your name.”

He didn’t think the creature could speak, but if he’d imagined it, that’s how he would have guessed the voice would sound. “My name is Vincent. What’s yours?”

A-030 laughs, gently. “No, it’s not. I know who can help you find it, and give you work, too. My name is Azolla, and you are lost. I will help you as you’ve helped me.”


End file.
